


shouldn't

by david_bowies_speedo



Category: The Office (US)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe, Angst, Dwight and Pam and Ryan are bffs, F/M, Humor, Jim Has Issues, Jim Is Obsessive, Moments of fluff, Pam Is Insecure, Romance, Slow Burn, but she grows, he's divorced OKAY, well kinda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-10
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2020-08-14 13:14:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20192869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/david_bowies_speedo/pseuds/david_bowies_speedo
Summary: Divorced and depressed, Jim Halpert is looking for a distraction, and one comes, in the form of Pamela Beesly, Babysitter.It's about to be one hell of a summer.





	1. Chapter 1

The broken sprinkler across the street sputtered and choked on itself, gasping as air and water combined to make a putt putt slosh slosh slosh putt slosh putt slosh…. Sun rays played through it to create a vanishing rainbow act and Jim Halpert looked on in distinct distraction. He wasn’t really seeing his neighbor’s broken watering device or the art display it performed in deft, natural beauty. He couldn’t, even if he wanted to. Wanted to. He didn’t want to. 

He also didn’t want to watch his- 

'Ex wife… Ex wife… Ex wife.'

It was hard to get used to. Hard to run over his tongue, over his mind. But yes, hard to watch Karen kiss Clayton goodbye, ruffle his dark brown hair and whisper secrets and promises Jim knew he could never be privy to. The love between a son and his mother seemed like a never ending train of lovely little gifts, wrapped in tissue paper and meant especially for who they were given to. Specific and right.  
Just like Karen. It was in everything she did. Her voice tight and cutting- especially at the end. She had hardly looked at him either, like it was painful. And he knew it was because it was hard for him, too. That’s why he was not looking at Clayton or Karen, but at the neighbor’s yard in all it’s broken beauty (not that he noticed). Their secret, shared moment was then over and she was waving to Jim, again, intentional and short. No other meaning behind it other than ‘I’m leaving now.’ Clayton turned to look at Jim with those same dark eyes, filled with worry and tears that a five year old was only expected to feel when seeing his mother get into a taxi, off to spend the weekend away with a man that wasn’t his father. 

“Come on bub, let’s go inside.” 

He watched as Clayton took one last unsure look at the retreating yellow car and then back to his father, stepping slow and a little wobbly in his dino slippers. Jim held out his hand for his son to take, which he did, as they crossed the barrier into what had recently become a single father’s home. 

“Mommys' gonna be home monday, right?” 

“Yeah, bub. Monday.” 

Jim walked Clayton into the kitchen where there was leftovers to be cleaned of the child’s messy breakfast consisting of chocolate chip pancakes and whipped cream (much to Karen’s dismay, ‘Do you always feed him this much sugar in the mornings?’ ‘No, I just thought since you were leaving he deserved something-’ ‘Jesus Jim you can’t spoil him like that he’s a growing kid, he needs protein and…’ ). Clayton let go of his father’s hand and hopped and landed to pick up a few fallen Lego pieces from the floor. 

'I’ll have to vacuum later, it’s a mess in here… No I won't have time, gotta go to the store… Go to the recycling place… have that conference call at eleven and then the one at three, or was it four? Shit, gotta look at the calendar…' 

More thoughts of dinner plans and Clayton’s bedtime tumbled through Jim’s tired head while he stepped a few feet closer to the fridge where the calendar hung from two magnets, the custom ones you can get to have photos placed under plastic mold, creating a fish eye illusion. The ones Karen had specially made and ordered. The ones he was surprised she hadn’t packed up with the rest of her things when she had moved out.  
The one on the left was of Karen, Jim and Clayton at the beach, each parent holding him up as a wave crashed and the then three year old’s face looked shocked and delighted. Despite the happy scene, Jim remembers the havoc that day brought. Clayton screaming in the back of the car, wiggling in his carseat to get out while snot and tears ran down his face, Jim and Karen arguing over the price of the hotel they were staying at for Jim’s family’s annual reunion. That was towards the beginning, when he thought they were just going through a rough patch. 

'God, seems so long ago.'

The one on the right was of Jim and Karen, holding hands while he kissed her on the cheek, an unfamiliar look of peace on her face. Jim remembers fighting in the lobby of the photographers’ studio. About what he couldn't remember, but he remembers driving back home, Karen’s obvious fumes of anger filling up the space of the car, and when he tried to apologise (again, for what, he couldn't place) and her holding up a hand, as if to silence him. ‘I just don't want to hear it right now, we’ll just fight again.’ 

The crash of Legos against hardwood floor brought him back to his first purpose, which didn’t include a melancholy retrospect of his marriage. 

'Gotta get new magnets'

Jim thought absently, adding to the ever growing mental to-do list.  
Jim scanned the calendar lined with flowers and butterflies with little smiling faces signifying the overly obvious themes shouting to it’s observers that it was in fact SPRING and MAY. Karen’s handwriting in strict small lines told various things to Jim about the weeks to come- a doctor’s appointment he was supposed to take Clayton to on the 16th, a birthday party Jim would pick up Clayton from, and this weekend, Friday the 10th when she was leaving was marked 'Karen’s Vacation, Jim gets Clayton'. While he wondered on the ridiculousness that was Karen’s third-person-pov writing he noticed in a different colored marker the name 'Pam: 10:00-5:00'. Confused and then guilted over the fact that the name seemed familiar and so did the rest of the small non specific note had Jim racking his still half asleep brain as to what the cryptic message could mean. It felt more pressing, too, when he noticed the same name and time all over the brightly colored page at different dates. 

'Pam Pam Pam Pam….' 

Jim sipped his coffee as he walked into his office just off the dining room and tried to ignore the fact it wasn’t as good as usual, but his mental to-do list prevailed. 

'Gotta get creamer, don't forget the creamer.' 

Karen usually didn’t just write nonsense names and times on the calendar without giving Jim extra hints as to what they were about. Sure enough amongst the piles of paper and files there was a hot pink sticky note in Karen’s handwriting: 

'Pamela Beesly, Babysitter: 240-331-2496' 

The faint memory of muddled voices beyond his office door and into the foyer had briefly distracted him from work. ‘I’m meeting the babysitter at your house today, just to meet Clayton since you have him. It’s the only time I was free this week.’ Jim remembers the sweep of Karen’s calm voice and another softer one responding, higher. Karen had opened the door to his office while he was on the phone, ‘Sorry, hold on’ he paused with his hand at the speaker and a feeling of slight annoyance. ‘Now’s really not a good time-’ behind Karen was a mop of curls in red and brown, and Jim was met with two peering eyes over Karen’s shoulder. Karen sighed and said nothing more to him as she closed the doors, and so too the only insight he might’ve had into 'Pamela Beesly, Babysitter'. 

Before he could even think as to what time it was (it was almost 10, as in '10:00- 5:00'), the doorbell rang. Jim ran a hand over his face as he set down his coffee on the desk, and stood up to answer the door. 

'Shit shit shit-' 

“Daddy who’s there-” 

“Hold on bub, just a sec.” 

It was already too late but his last second analyzation of his wardrobe choices weren’t all too impressive or appropriate for the circumstance- a gray t shirt and flannel pajama pants gave Jim what he was sure was a real Dad Look. Great. Getting over himself and opening the door, he was captivated by red and honey curls. Darting eyes and a shy smile, green corduroy overalls, a white tee, a yellow backpack and white sneakers. So many colors. Too many, and he had taken a second too long to say hello. 

“Hi, Pamela, right? Come on in.” 

He stepped back and the young girl walked through the door while he closed it behind her. 

“Hi, nice to meet you.” 

They shook hands, his much larger one engulfing hers and she finally met his eyes. 

“Nice to meet you, too. Sorry, I know I’m a few minutes early, my um, ride had to drop me off cause he had to go to this thing um, so I’m sorry if it was-” 

Her eyes flew around the space above and around his head again as she talked, and toyed with her fingers as well, but Jim still didn’t know what time it was and shook his head, quickly cutting her off. 

“No problem, no problem at all, sorry, I’m still in my pajamas, I was a little busy with Clayton- speaking of, Clayton! C’mere buddy!” 

The girl (girl? Young woman? Maybe 18, 19? Jim was never good with guessing age, but judging by the way she dressed and talked, she couldn’t be older than 20) nodded at his eased charm and fell into a soft pattern of smiles and silence, the occasional nod or ‘Oh, yeah.’ while Jim rambled off the list of things about the kitchen and living room and Clayton she probably already knew and more from Karen’s first meeting. Clayton hung around Jim’s left leg, clinging and stepping back and forth as toddlers do. 

“... So yeah, if you need anything, I’ll be in my office, just through there, and I might need to run some errands later, um, but yeah… ” 

he trailed off and weirdly his voice seemed so loud standing in the small foyer, the feel of Clayton behind him a sudden savior, 

“Clayton, bub, you met Miss Pamela, huh?” 

Clayton looked shyly around his father’s leg and up at the pretty new lady standing a few feet away. 

“Hi Clayton, remember me? We met a few weeks ago, I’m Pam.” 

'Pam not Pamela' 

Jim rehearsed in his head watching as she knelt down and held out her hand for him to shake. With a little push from his father, the young boy stepped forward and plucked the saliva coated thumb from his mouth and into her dainty hand. Jim cringed a little but Pam didn’t seem to notice or care. He figured that she must be around kids a lot, because her gaze never darted from Clayton. She didn’t seem flighty or nervous around him. 

A small ‘Hi.’ was coaxed from his five year old and after he decided (with a little help from Jim) that yes, he would like to show Miss Pam his Lego collection, and the two were off, hand in hand through the kitchen and into the living room. Jim would have to remember to thank Karen for setting this up, giving him time to work without worrying (too much) about Clayton. He might actually get some work done. 

Around 1:30, Jim heard a small knock at his door. He stood up, walking around his desk with a light, 

“Come on in!” 

Pam stood on the other side of the door, again her eyes went peering around him, around the room. He didn’t understand why, or even try to at the moment, but it bothered him. 

“Hi, I just wanted to let you know that Clayton ate some lunch, and I just put him down for his nap, I hope that’s okay.” 

A surge of concern, then relief swelled through his chest, his arms uncrossing to check his watch. 

“Oh, shit, it’s that time already, sorry if I should have come out and made his lunch, you didn’t have to do that-” 

“No, no it’s okay, Miss Filippelli gave me some lunch ideas and stuff…” 

She held up her phone as if it was an explanation, the flip phone a strange sight. Enough to distract from the fact he’d accidentally cursed in front of the babysitter and that she might as well have, too, addressing Karen by her maiden name. He wasn’t sure the last time he actually saw someone use one of those that wasn’t over 70. He nodded, pretending he didn’t notice so as not to accidentally embarrass her if she cared. Jim also pretended not to notice how one of her overall straps was unbuckled, surely the handy work of Clayton, knowing how fascinated he was with zipping and unzipping things, buttoning and unbuttoning and back again. 

'It’s weird to stare at your kid’s babysitter’s chest, right? Right.' 

It made her look like a girl in his political science class, his freshman year of college. Yeah, that’s who she reminded him of…. 

'God, what was her name? Rachel? Rebecca? Something with an R.' 

“Um, do you mind if I read my book while Clayton naps?” 

Once again he had been staring at her for too long, and he stood up straighter, sort of chuckling at the strangely innocent ridiculousness of her question once it had registered in his head. The book she held in her other hand, now raised up, asking to be accepted. Something by Stephen King. 

“Yeah, yeah of course. Help yourself to anything in the kitchen, too.” 

She thanked him quietly and closed the door behind her, leaving Jim to thoughts of a similar curly headed girl he’d crushed on many years and teenage fantasies ago. 

***

Come five o’clock, Jim was just entering the house, a few bags of groceries in his hold almost knocked wayward when Clayton came crashing into his knees. Pam appeared rounding the corner of the kitchen with a look on her face as if she wasn’t sure to expect Jim or not, and decidedly relieved once she had. 

“HI DAD!” 

Clayton’s overjoyed greeting came reverberating off the foyer walls and Jim laughed along with a giggling Pam. He liked the sound of that, he decided. 

“Hey bub, how’s it going?” 

Clayton let go of his knees and reached for his wrist instead as they walked into the kitchen. 

“Good, Miss Pam played Legos with me.” 

Jim turned to look at Pam with an unsure ‘Was he good?’ in his eyes. Her reassuring nod and secret smile were hard to turn away from for a moment.  
Shortly after that Clayton was saying goodbye to Pam from his perch in his highchair, and Jim walked her to the front door. 

“So, tomorrow, same time?” 

The words felt weird coming out of his mouth, but she only nodded and smiled small again, 

“Yeah, for sure, um, thanks Mr. Halpert.” 

The way she says it- so formal and sure coming out of her pink lips surprises Jim in such a jolting way that he has to gather himself and suddenly she’s out the door and down the steps, yellow backpack secure on her mousy shoulders. He feels ten years older. 

“Y-yeah, thank you.” 

She’s already hoping into the passenger side of a white truck and down the street, so it doesn’t really matter. He closes the door and tries to tell himself that. 

'It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.'  
Still, he makes it a point to let her know to call him ‘Jim’ the next chance he gets.


	2. Chapter 2

Jim’s body is awake before his eyes manage to open, the quiet still of his once shared room a rare respite. Usually, at times like this, he’ll sit on the edge of the mattress and ask where and how things went so wrong that he was now sleeping alone. He’d debate with himself, his memories and a little voice inside his head that sounded a lot like Karen. Another one sounded a lot like their marriage counselor. But Karen didn’t like that title, no, she called him a “relationship building trainer”. That was just another way she avoided acknowledging the truth of their crumbling marriage. Not that he was any better. 

Usually that’s how it went, and ended with him sipping the cup of water he kept for those specific moments on the nightstand. 

Tonight was different. 

Tonight, Jim was covered in a sheen of sweat, his heart beating like a drum, pounding through his head and other places, too. When he opened his eyes, he didn’t sit on the edge of the bed, but stayed where he was, lifting the sheets off of him to try and cool down. His heavy breathing and the hum of the ceiling fan became clearer in his ears as his heart rate began to slow. It was a little hard to believe, the realization that his 36 year old body managed to cause what the boys in middle school used to call a “wet dream”. Honestly he can’t remember the last time he woke up having to change his boxers, or even worse, his sheets. 

What the fuck? 

That first coherent thought echoing in his mind asked a lot of questions, some he wasn’t sure he’d like to answer. Jim wasn’t one to really analyze his dreams, or even remember them, besides the few seconds after waking up. Trying to hold onto them was like chasing vapor, so quickly did they vanish. 

Tonight, again, was different.  
Jim recalled instantly what he had been dreaming about. Or rather, who. Soft hands, and other body parts. Light laughter that chilled and warmed him at the same time like a summer breeze. Darker things, too. His fists enclosed around tufts of curly hair, pulling- closer or farther away from him he didn’t know, but… Her face. So clear in his mind it was almost surreal. Her large eyes looking up at him with questions and her lips parted like she was about to ask them. He was frozen, and delightfully so, under her gaze. 

It frightened him, how badly he wanted to return to a world where Pam Beesly, Babysitter was more than that. 

*** 

Dwight: Pam  
Dwight: Paaaaaam  
Dwight: Pam pam pam pam pam pam 

Oh my god Dwight,  
what? 

Dwight: I’m outside.  
Dwight: Hurry up. I have to pick up Ryan too.  
Yeah I’ll be out in a  
min. 

Pam shoveled one last mouthful of cereal past her lips before jumping up to dump the rest  
down the drain and grab her yellow backpack from the counter. Slipping past the stairwell, and straining her ears to see if she could hear her aunt (or her aunt’s boyfriend), she heard nothing. Relieved, and also a little worried considering it was almost 10 in the morning, Pam headed out the door, locking it behind her. Facing her aunt after she’d just woken up was already bad enough (Jan was NOT a morning person) but hungover? That was like trying to have a conversation with a dead person. And guessing from her music choices last night, Pam was almost positive her boyfriend, Michael, had come over last night for a little wine and karaoke. Michael just by himself was another thing that Pam tried to avoid whenever possible. From his cheesy (was that even the right word?) one-liners and inappropriate jokes, to his child-like need for attention, Pam wondered how two people like her aunt and him could even stand to be in the same room. 

Dwight was honking his horn as she walked across the front lawn to the vehicle, and she gave him ‘the finger’. She swung open the passenger side door, Dwight clearly offended by her harsh treatment of his truck. 

“Easy, woman. This is a classic vehicle and needs to be treated as such, it's a wonder I even let you look at it, much less open the door- hey!” 

Pam rolled her eyes and flung her backpack in the seat behind her. 

“What did I just say?” 

They stared at each other in mock annoyance before she buckled her seatbelt and said in a light if not sarcastic tone, 

“I thought you said we had to hurry because we were picking up Ryan too?” 

Dwight blew a raspberry and laughed, pushing up his wire rimmed glasses up his small nose and putting the car into gear, 

“Please, you know I would never be in a hurry to see him.” 

Pam laughed at his banter, even though he said it like he meant it. Driving through the suburban neighborhood and pulling onto the main highway into town, Pam twisted the ring on her thumb and hoped that she wouldn't be late to the Halperts- no just one Halpert. Mr Halpert’s, right? 

“So, you babysitting again today?” 

“Yeah, 10 to 5 like yesterday.” 

Dwight nodded, breaking way too soon at a yellow light. 

‘He so could’ve made that’ 

“So is the kid a brat, or what? Yesterday was your first day, right?” 

“No, Dwight, he’s not a brat, he’s actually pretty sweet. What about you, you guys working again?” 

Her friend’s face lit up when she asked the question, a rare, but genuine sight from Dwight. 

“Yes, actually, and I think I might get to go out on a sales call today…” 

Pam raised her eyebrows in surprise and nodded while they bumped fists. 

“Right on, Dwight, right on.” 

They were almost at Scranton University, and so the dorms where they would probably have to wait for Ryan for at least 10 minutes… Yeah, she was going to be a few minutes late. 

‘Early yesterday, late today, god. At least Mr. Halpert seems nice hopefully he won’t mind.’ 

Still, the itching anxiety of possibly being late for her new babysitting gig made Pam drum her fingertips against her lap, bite her lip and pray that Ryan wouldn't be too late.  
Surprisingly, when they pulled up to Ryan’s dorm, he was there waiting. He looked, well, exhausted really. Dwight had barely stopped the truck before Ryan was giving the same, if not harsher, treatment to the passenger door. Pam scooted across the bench seat for him, and at the same time away from the stale stench of what smelled like whiskey and… something else she didn’t feel like identifying. 

“Jeez, what is it with you two and the doo- oh GOD! Eugh! Ryan you smell like-” 

“Shit, I know, just shut up about it.” 

Pam didn’t comment on the smell, although it almost stung her eyes. 

“So,” 

She filled the silent cab with noise after a minute, 

“Kelly come over last night?” 

Ryan gave her a look and then squinted his eyes at her. Before he spoke, she could tell he was in one of his “moods”. Yeah, Kelly had definitely come over last night. 

“Not that it’s any of your business mom, but yeah. She did.” 

Dwight scoffed, 

“Oh let me guess, you both got raging drunk and then she said something stupid, and you got annoyed at her for it, and then you both fought, then you had sex and then she tried to convince you to skip work at the only good job you’ve ever had, or will probably ever have-” 

“Okay, Dwight, that’s enough.” 

Pam held up her hand, not really fazed by the tone of the conversation, but it was way too early in the day to be between Ryan and Dwight when they got into it. Ryan said nothing, but glared out the window, and by the tense in his shoulders, Pam could tell he wanted to say something mean.  
The truth was, she was worried about Ryan. College had been… not hard, that wasn't the right word. Tempting for Ryan. Ryan was a year older than Dwight and Pam, and was off at college while they both finished their senior year. He had texted them every once in a while but Pam’s phone situation and Dwight’s hatred for social media basically kept them out of the loop. Pam wasn’t ignorant though, she knew he was drinking a lot and experimenting with drugs. And then he met Kelly.  
Pam had only met the short, hyper girl once, but that was really all she needed to get to know her. It wasn’t like Pam didn’t like Kelly, she just knew that they weren’t really the type to be friends. And she was still shocked and a little confused as to how her and Ryan could be a couple. Couple? No, not really. She wasn’t sure what to call it. Words were escaping her that morning. 

“Dwight! Starbucks, pull over.” 

Pam sighed, and drummed her fingers a little faster. 

“Can’t you just come back after you’ve dropped me off?” 

Dwight was already pulling into the drive thru. 

“You're lucky I care about your work performance, Ryan.” 

He grumbled his thanks and proceeded to have Dwight order some complicated drink that had Dwigth stumbling over his words, and saying things like ‘mockiato- what is that? Japanese?’ and ‘double shot- double shot of what?’. Moments like these reminded Pam that Dwight did in fact grow up on a some-what secluded beet farm. 

By the time Pam was finally dropped off at Mr. Halperts, it was 10:15, and she felt like hitting Ryan for his stupid coffee and kicking Dwight for his slow driving.  
When Mr. Halpert opened the door, Pam felt slightly taken aback. He was a little more groomed this morning, with his hair combed and gelled, a gray button-up and black slacks. He looked like he was going somewhere fancy. He looked… nice. 

Pam chided herself for almost thinking something else. 

“Hi, I’m really sorry I’m late, I-” 

He stood a few feet back then, widening the birth for her to enter the home. 

“We- um, my ride he got- he drives really slow is all and I’m sorry again for being late.” 

What was it about him that made her so nervous she tripped over her words? 

‘It’s the way he stares’ 

“Pam, it’s all good. Don’t worry about it.” 

His casual stance and sipping of his coffee convinced her that he really, really didn’t mind. Well, that and his unusually kind eyes. 

“Oh-kay. Thanks.” 

He smiled at her and walked back to the kitchen- their house was SO big. They lived in the fancy part of town, where everyone’s lawns were always mowed, but just so, so you couldn’t see the track marks in the grass. All the houses looked similar but each had a unique style to it. It’s own personality. Where her aunt lived, the suburbs were nice, but every house looked exactly the same. There were no trees or bushes in anyone’s front yard. Just short grass and ugly paint. Pam felt like an intruder in both homes, however.  
Back home, her mom and dad lived in a dinky apartment with a parking garage that always smelled like old Mcdonald’s. She rarely invited Dwight or Ryan over when she lived there. Dwight was nice enough to never say anything, but she could tell he smelled it too, the wrinkle in his nose gave it away. Ryan had never said anything directly, but when he’d stepped into her living room for the first time and looked around like he was afraid to touch something, commenting that it seemed “cozy” in a voice that said otherwise, she knew to limit their visits. Maybe that’s just what she got when she only hung out with emotionally stunted males. 

Now, standing in Mr. Halpert’s kitchen that seemed bigger than her bedroom and bathroom combined, Pam was reminded of her mother. The kind of things she would say about someone who owned a house this big ringing in her ears. 

“Would you like some coffee?” 

Mr. Halpert held up the caraf to her from across the expanse of a kitchen. 

“Oh, uh, sure thanks.” 

She wondered where Clayton was until she heard stomping above her head, the ceiling seeming to barricade a pounding every couple of seconds. 

“Oh,” 

Mr. Halpert caught her questioning eyes, 

“I promised Clayton he could get dressed by himself this morning, that’s probably him trying to put on his pants.” 

She laughed at his far away gaze and humorous speculation. 

“He sounds like he’s doing a great job.” 

Mr. Halpert smiled and took another sip of his coffee, nodding his subtle sarcastic agreement. 

“Sounds like it, yeah.” 

***

It was hard to work, Jim found himself constantly distracted by little sounds out in the living room. Clayton would giggle loudly or something would happen on the tv causing him to lean back in his chair, trying to see anything from his blocked vantage point in the office.  
Jim would attempt to finish the email or proposition on his computer screen, and then be captured in his own want for involvement in the small bits of action in his own home, still, feeling like an intruder.  
Finally, an excuse to fill up his coffee cup once more became real enough that he found courage and reasons he wouldn’t need to explain anyway, but still practiced in his mind. 

Pam and Clayton were spread out amongst the toys and papers and crayons on the deep purple rug in the middle of the living room. He saw the top of her head as she said something quietly to Clayton, and he laughed exuberantly back. Lip twitching, Jim opened his mouth to speak, to say anything that might stop the moment playing before him, both oblivious to his presence in the kitchen, and therefore him. 

“Hey bub, you getting hungry for lunch?”

Clayton’s voice squeaked out a yes and Jim caught Pam’s surprised look, not knowing he had been so close. 

They both stood up and when Clayton was already climbing into his high chair, Pam was left standing awkwardly around the counter. 

“Oh, Mr. Halpert-” 

“Jim.” 

She turned her head, her confusion obvious. 

“You can call me Jim.”

He eased a charming smile from her like a magician with his rabbits and hats.

“Okay, Jim, um, I really don’t mind making Clayton’s lunch, I’m sure you have work to do.”

Jim shook his head, 

“No, I don’t mind. When Karen has him, I barely see him at all, so I enjoy doing this from time to time.” 

“Oh right, of course.” 

“Clayton, bub, what’s it gonna be, mac n cheese or frozen chicken strips, your choice.” 

Clayton decided on mac n cheese and Jim went about retrieving a pot. 

“So, Pam tell me, you going to school, just working or both?”

“Oh, well,” 

He could see the wall she had up between them, the one coated in professionalism and babysitter etiquette probably trained into her head since she was 15, her first job sitting the next door neighbor kids. He wanted to tear it down, that wall. The thought frightened him a little. 

“I’m starting at SCC in September and I’ll just be doing my pre req classes until I can start my real classes for business.” 

“Oh, nice. Do you know what sort of management or business you wanna go into?” 

Pam shrugged, fiddling with her buttons on her shirt, the slight tilt in her stance showed Jim uncomfortable shyness that was turning into casual anxiety. A step up. 

‘TO WHAT? PERVERT?’ 

His brain couldn’t shut off. Neither could the images from his… experience from the night before. She was talking again, and he wasn’t listening like he should have been and the water in the pot was overflowing in the sink. He poured a fair amount out before turning back to the stove, trying to clear his mind and hear her at the same time. 

“... and my Dad says I should just start as a receptionist and work my way up from there so, basically, to answer your question… I don't know.” 

Jim nodded and set the stovetop to high. 

“That’s alright, you’re only what, 18? You don’t have to have it all figured out.” 

He wanted to hit himself. What was he, her father?

That thought alone made him want to vomit. 

“19, and thanks. I guess, just college seems… it makes life seem real, if that makes sense.” 

Jim nodded again, trying to agree with everything she said, 

“Yeah, of course. Of course.” 

*** 

Pam listened to Jan and Michael down in the kitchen. Fighting. Again. About what she couldn’t make out but she was almost sure she heard Michael say something about having sensitive teeth and she knows this and how could she be so cold.  
Ugh. Even now, she’d rather hear Dwight and Ryan go at it. At least that was mildly entertaining. 

Her arms were sore, she realized when she went to turn up the volume on the old CD player across the room. Picking up and putting down Clayton all day while he asked to be thrown onto the couch was certainly an exercise.  
While she rubbed her shoulders, her thoughts turned to Mr. Halpert- Jim and an uncharacteristic sigh escaped her lips. His cool demeanor and easygoing smiles made Pam feel… strangely comfortable and just a little intimidated. It was like when he saw her he SAW her. He was looking at her because she was speaking and what she said interested him. Sometimes, Pam was convinced she was invisible, or almost- the only thing preventing said invisibility was her frizzy mane.  
Other times, Pam wished she really was invisible. Self conscious didn’t even begin to explain how Pam usually felt around guys, and sometimes girls. Dwight never made her feel that way (actually, Pam was pretty sure that Dwight wouldn’t know a stripper if she was giving him a lap dance), but even Ryan made Pam want to hide under more sweaters than she was already wearing. There were times when she caught him staring at her chest or felt his eyes on her while she walked up a flight of stairs when they were in high school. He would trail behind, while she begged him to hurry up or they’d be late for Astronomy, while also silently begging him to back the fuck off.  
Strangely, she didn’t feel those things around Mr. Halp- Jim. He was just kind and thoughtful and she’d have to be blind to not see he was pretty good looking. 

So what did this all mean? 

She sighed again, grabbing a nearby pillow and screaming into it, the muffled sound almost containing the realization that she might be developing a slight crush. 

Oops. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, ya girl had CNA classes to attend. 
> 
> i wanted to make the dynamic between how Jim views Pam and how Pam views Jim obvious. 
> 
> for her, it's a school girl crush.
> 
> for him it's a lil more complicated than that lmao. 
> 
> did u catch the references i made 2 the show? 
> 
> just to be clear- I DON'T CONDONE OLDER MEN LEERING AFTER YOUNG GIRLS!11!!1!!!1  
this is a work of fiction and should be treated as such.  
thanks for anyone who stuck around to see chapter two, again, sorry i think i told someone it would be out earlier and that was obviously a lie. sorry about that, babes. 
> 
> and thanks to those who commented asking for chapter two it helped me finish writing it. sorry if it's shorter than u expected.
> 
> okay okay i'll go now and try to start chapter three. 
> 
> xoxo,  
bean


	3. Chapter 3

“Wait, what do you mean you’re staying an extra day, Karen, I-”

“I know, I know I'm sorry, we didn’t plan for it… I just… I really need this Jim. Please. It’s just one more day and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

Jim ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. He muttered a curse word under his breath.

“I just… I have a pretty big meeting at 12 and I wasn't planning on having to take care of Clayton today-”

“Well, I’m sorry Jim, I don't know what to tell you, we already missed our flight, I- yes, I’ll have the fish-”

“Are… are you out right now or something?”

Karen had pissed him off before, that was true, but the inconsideration she was showing was very unlike those times, and confused him more than anything. She was acting flighty and unplanned. Not exactly relaxed, but… unconcerned.

“Yes, we’re eating out right now, can I call you back later?”

Jim was surprised when he heard the deep timbre of a distinctly male voice laugh beyond the faint clatter of dishware- Jim froze.

“Wait, wait, what do you- I mean, can I drop him off at your mom’s or something? It’s the sitter’s day off and I- I really don't have the time to-”

“Jim, please, I need this.”

The echo of that laugh was pinching him in the corners of his mind… He didn't want to think of it. Tapping his finger against his desk, Jim thought.  
A pink sticky note caught his eye among the papers that currently flooded his desk.

‘Pamela Beesley, Babysitter’

“Yeah. I can… I can figure something out.”

***

There was a stillness, this early in the morning.

Pam sat on the front porch and watched a spider crawl through the rose bush a few feet away, occasionally it’s legs became stuck in a bulb of water. Pam made note of that while her pencil meeting the paper seemed to be the only noise around, besides the faint sound of cars further into town. As the light around her grew, so did the realization that she would have to go inside soon.  
Although Jan was not a morning person, she was diligent in her almost-waking routine of picking up the paper and making coffee, which she read and drank respectively from the comfort of her bed. The last time Pam had come out here this early, Jan had jumped and yelped a bit and proceeded to ask Pam just exactly what the hell she was doing outside this early sitting on the porch and that she scared the hell out of her.

Yea, Pam learned to be a bit more careful about that now.

Anyway, she could take a shower and try to mentally prepare herself for a day of- well, she actually wasn’t that sure.

It had been three days since she had started babysitting Clayton, and today was her day off. She had texted Ms. Fillipelli about babysitting when she got back from her trip, but she had shortly explained that Pam was only babysitting Clayton at Mr- at Jim’s. They had “separate child caregivers for the time being”. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean, Pam had little to no idea. Her only guess was that it limited the exchanges necessary between the now ex couple. Weird.

In another uncharacteristic fashion for Pam, she felt slightly gleeful that Jim wasn’t married, and almost instantly took it back.

‘Ugh, don't be gross…’

Pam rolled her eyes at her own rather intrusive thoughts while gathering her things and heading inside.  
She sipped a cup of tea at the counter in the empty kitchen, still adding a few shades here and there on her sketch, absently wondering what it would be like to sketch a certain man with pretty eyes and a charming smile…. She hardly noticed that she’d flipped to an empty page and started an attempt.

The faucet squeaked while the shower sprung to life and hot water sprayed the tub. Pam stepped inside and pulled the curtain closed while hissing at the feel of scalding water- she turned it down a bit and relaxed after a moment of adjustment. For a few minutes, Pam was completely content in her environment. Breathing in hot steam while the water trailed through her scalp, she was almost able to imagine they were the fingers of the hands of someone else, someone-

Knock knock

“Pam! Pamela, the phone, it's for you!”

The voice of her aunt barely audible over the loud spray of water caused Pam to turn it off all together and grab a towel. Stepping out of the tub and unlocking the door, she was met with a very tired looking Jan (possibly non-caffeinated?) handing her the house phone. Pam didn't have the time to question who she knew that didn't know her cell but knew her aunt’s house phone…

“Hello?”

Her wet mop of hair was starting to drip on the floor and Jan almost pushed her back into the bathroom mouthing ‘Don't drip on the carpet!’. Pam closed the bathroom door once more behind her.

“Hi, Pam? It’s Jim, I was wondering if you could come watch Clayton today- I know today is supposed to be your day off but-”

He sounded desperate. He sounded… nice. His voice, on the phone… it felt different. The way he said “It’s Jim” made Pam almost smile…

‘“It’s Jim”, like we’re friends, like I was expecting him.’

“Yeah no problem!”

A pause, and an exhale laced with relief.

“Thank you. So much. I owe you one.”

Pam felt her throat close up at the words. Why did this feel so intimate?

“Y-yeah, it’s no big deal.”

“What time can you-”

“What time should I-”

They both laughed awkwardly before Jim spoke.

“Really, whatever time you can come over is great.”

“A-alright, I uh, I just have to…”

Her thoughts were suddenly jumbled together, like a drawer with one too many kitchen utensils inside, her words knives- the possibility of stabbing one through your palm and out your mouth a little too real. Pam thought for a moment, considering Dwight and her aunt and possibly (hopefully not) her aunt’s boyfriend for transportation, finally settling for simply grabbing her cell phone out of her robe that was laying on the floor.

‘Crap! 3 missed calls from Jim… no wonder he called the home phone.’

“Still there Pam?”

“Yeah! Yes! I’ll be over soon.”

***

“Dad! Dad! Dad!”

Jim locked his phone, a sense of relief rested within him.

“Yeah, what’s up bub?”

The Yellow Pages which took him a good amount of time to find was laying on the counter with the name ‘Jan Levinson’ highlighted- who uses landlines anymore?

‘Thank god some people do…’

“Dad, I was watching tha tv and tha green lantern came on and he went so fast and he was flying around and I saw him use his powers and….”

Clayton rambled on while Jim gave enthusiastic nods, Pam’s voice still rang in his ears clear as a bell.

“.... So could I? Dad?”

Jim realized his hand was still frozen on the Yellow Pages and his son was looking at him with questioning eyes.

“Sorry, what was that, bub?”

The dark haired boy gave a sassy eye roll and giggled.

“I said that could I be the Green Lantern for Halloween?”

Reaching out to ruffle his son’s hair he nodded,

“Well of course you can…. That is unless Green Lantern shows up.”

Clayton’s eyes went wide.

“Wh-what would he do?”

“Well, I’m just not sure he’d like it if you were both wearing the same costume…”

Jim rested his chin against his knuckles, trying not to smile. Clayton thought hard for a moment, a suddenly determined look in his eye.

“I’d just, um, prolly’ fight ‘im and beat ‘im and then he’d wanna be my friend and then he wouldn't even see that I, uh, I had the same um, clothes!”

Jim laughed now, and oddly proud of his son, he ruffled his hair once more.

“Sounds like a good idea, bub.”

While Clayton smiled, and ran back into the living room per his father’s approval involving Halloween costumes, Jim began about making coffee. He wondered how soon Pam would get here… even though the meeting didn't start till 12, he still had a lot of planning to do. Mainly in his office, and that was a place where work and distraction did not mesh well, that work being Jim and the distraction being Clayton, as experience had proven. Picturing Clayton spilling his ravioli all over Jim’s paper’s from a few weeks ago was not a pleasant memory, and Jim found himself cursing Karen for the millionth time that morning.

‘What was so goddamn important that she missed her flight for it? It’s not just… unlike Karen… It’s alien of her.’

The sudden implications of how this new relationship were (clearly) affecting her was a rabbit hole he didn't want to dive into; Instead, Jim settled for calling her some unkind (but not totally new) words in his head.

Whilst in the middle of a sparring match with an imaginary Karen (the weapon of choice was not fists nor sticks, but rather more nasty words and unkind secrets), Jim’s phone began to ring.  
‘Wallace. Better get it.’

“David, how’s it going?”

“Hey Jim, we’re gonna have to reel back that meeting to around 11:30.”

“11:30, that’s… uh… Jeez, I wasn't really-”

Jim craned his neck to see Clayton transfixed with some cartoon, and made a beeline for his office, trying to close the door with precision.

“I know, it’s earlier than we thought but we really need to get the ball rolling on this and the investors asked for it, so I didn't really feel that we were any position to deny that.”

Jim could almost feel his blood pressure spike- he needed that extra thirty minutes to get the rest of the quarterly stats from the branch managers organized and was still missing one- Josh from Stamford, the lazy S.O.B hadn't sent it to him.

“David, I feel you, I do, but I still don't have all the-”

“Look, Jim, I’m getting another call, I have to take this- but, just… do the best you can, get it together and- Oh! I wanted to talk to you about a position here where you’re physically at Corporate, but we’ll talk about that later, I gotta go. Talk to you in about…. An hour.”

The click of the receiver felt like a bucket of cold water. Jim cursed again.

“Fuck.”

The faint crumble of tire against pavement made Jim turn his attention to his front yard, where a familiar white truck had pulled up. The light was hitting the windshield just so, and Jim couldn't tell who was inside- but,

‘That’s Pam, right?’

She’s not driving but she gets out on the passenger side, yellow backpack still obviously present on his tiny shoulders. He thinks she looks cute, and is in the middle of scolding himself for the thought when she blows the driver a kiss.

‘What?’

If the phone call with Wallace felt like a bucket of cold water, that felt like being pushed into a half frozen lake.

***

“Ooo, what if she’s part of the mob, you just never knew. Filippelli, name like that, she’s sure to have family members in the mafia.”

“Oh, my god, Dwight, Ms. Filippelli is not part of the mafia, for crying out loud.”

Pam was laughing while Dwight half mocked her employers unplanned need for her presence.

“How would you know? They always keep these things real secret- have you ever even seen ‘The Godfather’?”

This caused another burst of laughter from Pam and a small smirk from Dwight- he would never admit it, but he liked making her laugh.

“Well, whatever the real reason, I appreciate you giving me a ride. I know it was last minute, I’m just glad you had the day off.”

She tried to give him a pat on the shoulder but Dwight only shrugged,

“Yeah, well, I’m still mad they wouldn't let us come in- if anything, they need me! I might not be in accounting, but I’m still good with numbers.”

Pam checked her watch- she would probably get there in about 5 minutes or less,

“Yeah, what’s the whole issue anyway?”

Dwight pushed his glasses up with one finger, hand quickly returning to the wheel as they came to a (complete) stop at the light.

“I… I don't really know. They wouldn't tell any of us, but there were some rumors about a big meeting with the investors or something.”

Pam simply hummed in response, Dwight kept on talking.

“If you ask me, paper is gonna make a huge comeback in the next year or so, trust me. They’d be fools to cut us off like that.”

Pam played with the hem of her shirt, wondering about the seriousness of it all.

“Well, what will you do if… if it does go under? I mean… Will you be okay?”

Dwight scoffed at this,

“Me? I’ll be just fine, I have my parent’s beet farm, my cousin Mose will let me come work on it whenever. The agritourism industry is booming- if anything, it’s Ryan you should be worried about.”

Thoughts turning to her other friend, she began to worry- would he be okay? His grades weren't all that great, that much she knew. He was a “big idea” kinda guy, but actually committing to any of them was another thing.

Seeming to sense her worry, Dwight straightened up in his seat and lightened his tone,

“But I’m sure he’d be fine- I think his dad has some sort of restaurant, he could always work there.”

“Hmm. I hope.”

They were just pulling up to the now familiar neighborhood, Pam checking her watch once more.

“Oh! Speaking of Ryan, the little twerp wants us to accompany him to the bowling alley tomorrow night- I guess his woman, that Kelly creature, wants us all to hang out- and you can't say no, I am NOT going to hang out with them by myself.”

Pam felt slightly panicked and suddenly annoyed at Ryan,

‘Dammit, how am I gonna get out of that?’

“Ugh, what? Since when? He never texted me about it and anyway tomorrow night I’m-”

Dwight held up a finger to her and frowned.

“DON'T say you're ‘busy’, you and I both know you have nothing better to do other than call your mom and avoid Jan and Michael. Come on. Don't make me go alone, for the love of god.”  
Pam frowned at him, but a small smirk began to emerge on her lips.

“Only if we get to pull a prank on them.”

Dwight sighed and rested his head against the wheel.

“What kind of prank?”

Pam began to think when Dwight sat up straight again, an idea clearly forming on his lips. She could practically see the diabolical hamster running a little faster on it’s black wheel.

“We’ll pretend we work for the CIA and her parents are illegal aliens and-”

Pam shook her head- should she really be surprised?

“No, nope, no, I'm gonna stop you right there.”

He rolled his eyes,

“Fine, fine, well, what did you have in mind?”

Pam smirked at her friend,

“We could… pretend you and I are dating and we fight all the time just like Kelly and Ryan! That would annoy them so much!”

Dwight looked skeptical,

“I don't know, I think Ryan would catch on pretty fast-”

“No, we just have to play it up! C’mon, you know it would be funny!”

Dwight began to smile,

“Yeah ‘cause I would never date you- it’d be hilarious!”

Tilting her head, Pam squinted her eyes slightly,

“I’ll try not to take that any sort of way, but, yeah, let’s do it!”

Dwight gave her a high-five and nodded.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you later, girlfriend!”

Dwight gave her an over exaggerated wink while she got out of his truck, and blew him a fake kiss in return,

“Later, loverboy.”

Pam tried to close the truck door softer than usual, a gleeful feeling had taken root in her stomach, and the change was welcome compared to the usual anxiety she usually felt when running up the steps to the Halpert's (‘No, again, just one Halpert- wait, did Clayton count as a Halpert?’ ).  
Unfortunately, the closer she got to the front door, reality began to settle in. Pam thought she felt confident, but with her hand on the knocker, she felt jilted again. The gleeful feeling was starting to dissipate.

‘Why do I feel like this? It’s just… it’s just a job. Just a job. With a kind of good looking employer. That’s it. No reason to feel weird. Or nervous. Just cut it out, loser. Don't be weird. Don't be weird. Don't be weird… ’

With these jumbled thoughts, Pam tried to gain confidence, as little as it was. Why did today feel worse?

She knocked, nevertheless.

For a few moments, she heard nothing, and Pam worried that her too soft knock had registered no sound within the household. She went to knock again, her gaze drifting to the poorly trimmed wisterias that had begun a long climb up the brick wall, probably from the ample amounts of rain the months of April and May provided. In all their wild beauty, Pam felt an urge to paint them. Preferably watercolors, as was her favorite. Oil would get too messy.  
Another urge snaked it's way through her arm, causing her to reach out and touch the purple flower, when the door swung open.

Jim.

He looked…. Tired. More tired than usual, and a little dull look was coloring his eyes. She’d like to paint them a brighter color-

“Pam, thanks for coming on such short notice. Please, come in.”

Pam nodded and entered the house- it felt… again, stranger. Just today.

Jim walked around her, he wasn't looking at her like usual, that she picked up on almost immediately, his attention on his phone.

‘Why do you care? He’s a grown man, stop- BEING SO WEIRD.”

“Hi, is Clayton-”

“He’s in the living room, look, Pam, I’ll be honest with you. I have a really important meeting in the other room in about…” He paused to check his phone again, “Shit, about 45 minutes, and I need quiet so, I don't care what you do but please just keep him occupied.”

Even though he sort of laughed at the end of his sentence, it didn't feel light hearted at all. He seemed… Angry. Upset. Stressed.

‘Why does it feel like he’s scolding me?’

A glow of embarrassment had started it's fire on Pam’s cheek, and she could feel the hot flames licking down her chest below the confines of her shirt.

“O-oh yeah. Yes. I can-”

“Great.”

Cutting her off, and the conversation short, he was walking away and into his office. The door shut with a resounding thud, leaving Pamela Beesley, Babysitter, alone.  
***

Clayton was already pretty entranced with the current episode of Ninja Turtles on the TV (‘They still air this stuff?’), and only ever asked for a juice box, so for the most part, Pam was content to finish the sketch she had started this morning (the spider, not the beginnings of a face she didn't really remember ever starting), even though it was mostly from memory. It was better than imagining what she could have said or did to seemingly anger Mr. Halpert. Logically she knew he was just stressed from work or having to find someone to watch Clayton or any number of things that didn't involve herself, but… She couldn't shake the feeling that she personally was responsible for his cloudy mood.  
A few times she thought about getting up and going to see if he was “alright” or see if he “needed” anything but, argued with herself that she’d probably only be bothering him and that she was Clayton’s sitter, not his.

It was around 11:50 she saw that somehow Clayton had fallen asleep on the carpet, and picked him up (with not a little effort) and managed to lay him on the couch. She was just tucking him in with a throw blanket, when she heard it.

“Goddamnit!”

The loud curse word shocked her, and though not altogether foreign to her own vocabulary as it came echoing down the hall, slightly muffled from the confines of Jim Halpert’s office Pam stood up straight and hugged herself tightly. An instinct she couldn't deny or explain. Her eyes went wide and an urge to run for the front door wasn't shaken off easily.  
The sounds of papers shuffling and more muffled voices were loud enough to make Pam squat next to where Clayton was sleeping softly. She almost felt worried that he would come out at any moment and… What? He wouldn't hurt her, surely. Maybe walk around in a Big Way and make her nervous but…

Nothing.

For a few more minutes, Pam sat in the same still position, worried and starting to get a cramp in her thigh.

Eventually, she sat all the way down hugged her knees to her chest and faced the tv.

She stayed in that position for a long time, it felt like. The cartoons played at a low volume and Pam hardly noticed any of it. None of it seemed worth remembering, and even if she wanted to she was sure that she wouldn't. The space behind her seemed like a minefield.  
Eventually, Clayton woke up and asked for lunch, and Pam reluctantly got up on cramped legs to make him a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as quiet as she could. A few times she thought she could hear voices coming from the office down the hall, but did her best not to look- she felt pathetic. And nervous.

Watching Clayton eat his lunch with vigor while he chattered on about his favorite superheroes, Pam felt as if gravity was pulling on her whole being. Who was she to have a crush on some grown up guy with a kid? A kid that she was getting paid to babysit! Clearly stressed about work and bills, and being divorced, probably. She felt… well, 19. Actually, she felt younger than that. The weight of age felt heavier than anything.  
If she wants a boyfriend, (Did she? She wasn't sure.) why doesn't she go out and get one her own age? As determined the thought felt, she almost laughed.

‘Yes, I Pamela Beesly will “go out” and get myself a boyfriend. That’s me.’

The truth was, she’d accidentally let this “crush” go too far. Before it had felt light and fluffy, no big deal, it was nothing serious and nothing serious was to come of it- she knew that. But now?  
It all felt silly. She felt silly. And she briefly wondered if any of this was worth it? Should she still babysit for a kid whose father (‘“Father” for crying out loud!’) made her feel all these… feelings? Sure it had only been a few days, but… what about the long run? She knew Karen (‘And Karen for god’s sakes! His ex wife! This kid’s mother!’) had worked out a month long schedule for her but… would it be so bad if she quit? No… that would be… suspicious. And she didn't want to be suspicious. No, Pamela Beesly was decidedly not suspicious. She was… expected. And normal. And not out of the ordinary or had crushes on… guys with kids and ex wives. She liked guys her own age… right? Right. Anything less or more was different. And different, Pam was not.  
Maybe it was better to be invisible, unseen by handsome men. Or anyone for that matter. Unseen wasn't trouble. Having frizzy hair? Not so bad, at least, not compared to the mess she suddenly found herself in.

‘But I'm not in any mess, I didn't do anything. I'm fine… This situation is fine. There is no “situation”! I'm … this is normal. There’s nothing going on or weird and if there is i'm just making it up. Because this is just a job. Just a job. Just a job.’

A few hours later, Jim finally popped out of his office (besides the one time he used the bathroom down the hall, and Pam hadn't even noticed that. Or at least pretended not to.) and he still looked tired. Worse, even.  
Pam, again, pretended not to notice.

In fact, the rest of the afternoon and up until she left at 5:00 promptly, she pretended a lot of things. She pretended to laugh at Jim’s attempt at light humor or nodded and gave simple answers to any questions he had. She pretended not to care or think anything of it if he glanced at her too long, a sort of worry in his eyes. She said goodbye to Clayton with a smile, and a slight nod towards Mr. Halpert who tried a cheerful goodbye in turn. She didn't notice any of it.

She promised herself she wouldn't.

***

Jim knew he had upset her.

It was pretty clear on her face. A face that seemed so full of every emotion it conveyed. Shock, hurt, almost fear… It almost hurt more than seeing her blow that kiss. Yes, it definitely did.

Behind the locked door of his office, he didn't want to think about the words he just nearly spat at her, ones she really didn't deserve, and why was he treating her like that anyway? Why was he treating her any sort of way? It was ridiculous and he wasn't in high school- he was a grown man. Why was he letting this get to him this much?

He couldn't… deal with that right now. He couldn't deal with her here now, and how awful it felt being betrayed by emotions he clearly couldn't control like he was 4, and not 34. It was ridiculous.

And Josh- when he didn't have the expense reports or quarterly stats he’d asked for weeks ago- that was what finally did it in for him.

“Goddamnit!”

It felt good to say, but only for a moment, because a second later, the realization that Clayton had possibly heard, and Pam had most definitely heard made him freeze.

‘Jesus Christ, she must think I’m some sort of fucking lunatic. Get it together, Halpert. Get it the fuck together.’  
The meeting went… fine. Not great. Not terrible. Just fine. They weren't getting tanked by the investors, but they weren't getting nearly any of the slack they’d hoped to get. Jim felt partially responsible- he didn't have all of the paperwork needed to prove that they were in fact cutting the budget in some areas, and making better sales in others.

‘Fucking Josh.’

In all honesty, he knew he hadn't been totally on top of everything. Not since… well, not for a while now. The divorce didn't help, and neither did the new schedule Karen had organized- one he’d had little say in. He felt isolated, almost always. He tried to spend more time with Clayton, and that did help, but it just meant less time working.

And then… Pam.

That wasn't necessarily helping things either, clearly.

All over again, he felt like a jerk.

She didn't deserve that.

She was just a kid, some poor kid that Jim decided reminded him of some girl he’d crushed on years ago and, BAM! His fucking psyche decided that was enough to give him a surge of teenage hormones he hadn't even realized were still dormant in his… whereever. And whatever. It didn't mean anything. He was wrong to think it did.  
He just needed some good ol’ fashion pornagraphic images and some alone time to….

‘Get the fuck rid of it. Of her. She’s the babysitter, you fuckhead. Get it together. Get it together.’

It took a surprising amount of courage to finally leave his office and head to the kitchen. He was pretty hungry, anyway, and the “bathroom trip” was his first lame attempt that took a significant amount of guts as well.

Immediately, he felt like apologizing to her. She hardly looked at him, and when she did, it was for a few precious seconds that were clearly barricaded. Walls, up.

Jim watched her give a small nod, nothing more, and leave.

For the second time that week, Jim was telling himself that it didn't matter… didn't matter… didn't matter.

***

“AND I know he totally ignored my three calls on purpose, like, obvious much?”

The endless rows of bras that she herself would never buy seemed way too bright to wear under any slightly sheer or thin shirts, Pam observed.

“Oh wow, what did he say when you-”

Kelly was running her painted fingers over a brightly colored robe made of a satin material.

“Well, that's the crazy part, is he acted like I was being stupid and I was like ‘Ryan, I know you were texting Samantha from that one class’ and he was like ‘Kelly, how could I be texting her if you said I wasn't answering my phone?’ and so I said, ``Uh, because you were ignoring me! Duh!’ Ugh, Pam, I am so gonna kill him if he keeps doing that.”

Pam nodded at her counterpart and tried to appear concerned.

‘God help me, I'M gonna be the one to kill Ryan if he keeps dating Kelly.’

Pam also conceded that she might just have to kill Michael as well, and her aunt for dating the loon. It was their fault she was even here at Victoria’s Secret shopping with One Kelly Kapour.

It had all started when Pam was getting ready for her “double date” with Dwight, Ryan and Kelly when she heard Michael complain that the wifi was out again and that Jan really needed to do something about the wifi or else he would start going to Starbucks and that it was already a tense situation over there because of the barista that he “dated” (Pam knew Michael had never dated a barista at Starbucks because for one they were all like 20 something and for two, it was Michael). Ryan and Dwight came to the door (sans Kelly, much to Pam’s relief) and although Dwight was weirdly eager to help Michael, he wanted Ryan to stay and help him (“You kids always know stuff about wifi and stuff, huh? I'm sure you know how to fix this”). Pam knew from the look in her friend’s eye that that was the last way he wanted to spend his night.

“Well, Michael, we all had a date planned and-” Pam tried to explain but Michael was already interrupting her.

“Blah, blah, blah, Pam- Pam. Pam. Shush.” He paused, turning his attention to an unfortunate Ryan.

“C’mon man, help a dude out? I reeeaaaally need to get this um, document, sent in to the boss man and it would be a huge help if you could check out the wifi….?”

Pam wanted to call for her aunt to come save them but she was busy in her “workshop” (which was just a fancy term for the awful sense blinding room where she made her candles) and she was “Not to be disturbed under any circumstances”.

So, a few more awkward conversations later and at the behest of almost everyone in the group, they had decided that Pam and Kelly would go to the mall, and when Ryan and Dwight finished up at her aunt’s house, they would all meet up and grab some dinner. From where Pam stood, it seemed like an eternity till then.

Well, that was until she weirdly started to have an okay time.

“So, any men in your life?”

Pam was about to detest, say that sadly, no, there was no one when she felt a strange need to open up and talk about the incident yesterday. Really, to anyone, even Kelly.

“Not really… I mean… There’s this guy I sorta have a crush on.”  
Kelly gasped loudly, receiving a few looks from otherwise occupied patrons while she clutched a white babydoll dress.

“Really?! Do I know him? Does he go to SCC?”

Pam shrugged and realized that she was about to have to tell a few white lies.

“Um, I don't know, I don't think he goes there he’s um… He works at…. The library, yeah.”  
Kelly didn't notice her slip up, and Pam felt clever for thinking of a place that Kelly was unlikely step into anytime soon.

“Oh, wow, so he must be pretty smart, or something.”

“Yeah, something like that.” Pam nodded, a pink bra caught her eye- it’s plain yet silky material seemed to be calling to her. Kelly pushed on.

“So, like, what’s the deal, have you flirted with him yet? Got his number? Been on any dates?”

Pam picked up the silky lingerie and wondered how to respond, finding her words carefully. “Um, I don't know, not really. He’s kind of… He just got out of a bad relationship, so I don't think he’s looking for anything right now, but, he kinda… I don't know I thought maybe he liked me- just as a friend or something, but yesterday he kinda… was acting weird and it really threw me off. He just-”

“Sent some mixed signals?” Kelly’s expression was suddenly oddly sincere and open- for a moment, Pam was thrown by the other girls softness in her voice and eyes. She seemed sympathetic.

Pam had to wonder then, just what had Ryan done to Kelly to make her so understanding of Pam’s plight, and so quick to know?

“Y-yeah, he kinda… Yeah, sent some mixed signals.” She said, trying to push to lump forming at the back of her throat down.

Kelly went back to eyeing the white babydoll dress.

“Yeah, that sucks. Especially when you think they really… like you. Not just like, ‘Ooo I like you so much you're so pretty’ but like…. I don't know, just make you believe that they get you or whatever. I hate that. You should get that, by the way. It’d look really good with your skin tone.”

Pam looked back to the silk bra in her hands, considering that maybe it was worth a splurge, when Kelly’s slightly sweaty palm was around her wrist.

“Ohmygod, do you see that guy? He was totally just checking us out, what the fuck.”

Whipping her head up, Pam was startled to see Jim Halpert staring at her through the storefront window. His eyes flashed to her hands, and Pam looked down.

She was still holding the silk bra.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this ended at a weird place n im sorry i wanted to make it longer. i felt bad about not posting for a long time and so i kinda wrote a lot of it in one sitting but the last part was just dragging on and on and... basically i needed to post this for my own sanity, so sorry if there r continuity errors n weird jim moments n shit like that. ill prolly come back n edit this later. 
> 
> also, i feel like i was mean to kelly a lot in this chapter so i just wanted to clarify that i love kelly so much n its just for tha sake of tha story. 
> 
> ok oof thnx 4 reading n i hope ur holiday season was stress free as can b and u r doing great!!!  
xoxo

**Author's Note:**

> welp theres that. it can only go up from here, right (that's what she said)? next chapter will have some parts from Pam's pov :) 
> 
> thnx 4 reading n stuff 
> 
> xoxo


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